2.25 years on T without noticeable masculinizing changes
Posted: June 18, 2015 Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: androgyny, depression, gender, gender identity, genderqueer, hormone replacement therapy, lgbtq, mental health, non-binary, queer, testosterone, trans, transgender 8 CommentsThis post is going to be a little bit of a bummer. If you want to read more uplifting posts in the series, here are a couple:
2 years on T
1.5 years on T
1 year on T
5 months on T
I guess I feel like I don’t really know what I’m doing with testosterone. I consider stopping it. I consider just remaining on the same dose. I consider doubling my dose. All these options seem like good ideas, and I can’t really forsee what’s next.
If I stopped taking testosterone: At this point, I’ve gotten used to all the good things I’ve felt from testosterone. And I’m partially convinced the effects have worn off. But that is probably the depression talking – I have been through a lot in the last 6 months, and testosterone couldn’t save me from depression and anxiety. Which makes me wonder what effect it is having. A part of me wants to discontinue it just to be reminded why I am on it. I’ve felt this way about psychotropic drugs in the past – what are they actually doing for me? I feel relatively sure I’ll remember pretty quickly that testosterone is good – a part of me feels like I need that reassurance. Also, I’m starting to notice I’m losing some hair at my temples, so a knee-jerk reaction is to stop before I lose more hair. I’m on such a low dose that I believe this change will plateau out like other changes have plateaued out, but I gotta admit it’s freaking me out.
If I stayed on the same dose: This is working for me, so why not stay with the status quo? Everyone (my doctor, my therapist) is telling me that because I’ve had so much instability and med changes, I should stay on the same dose for continuity – don’t mess with one more thing, physiologically and psychologically. Makes sense.
If I doubled my dose: I have been wanting to do this. I am curious to see. It’d be nice to see some more changes happening. I’d like to see my voice get a little deeper. I’d like to see myself gain a little more muscle mass. I want to be seen as male by strangers more than I currently am. I want to see if it’ll make me feel even more warm and fuzzy and at peace, internally. Just, I want something new! (I’m afraid of more facial hair and a receding hairline though).
It just feels like I’m at an impasse. Of course you don’t get to pick and choose what changes happen. But, I do feel like I can control the rate, which is nice. If I had to make a plan of action, I’d say I’ll be staying on the same dose for a while (a few months), during which time I’ll be aiming to get myself off of some of these medications and continue to stabilize (hopefully). Then I’ll double my dose, at least for a little while, and I’ll obsessively be checking my hairline…
Lastly, for now, a couple of comparison photos:
2.25 years
2 years
1 year
Being transgender while in a partial hospitalization program
Posted: May 13, 2015 Filed under: coming out, name change | Tags: coming out, depression, gender, gender identity, genderqueer, hospital, lgbtq, non-binary, queer, trans, transgender 3 CommentsThis post is in tandem with a post from back in February, Being transgender while hospitalized.
For the past two weeks, I was attending a partial hospitalization program every day from 9:30 – 3:15. Our day was broken up into 5 workshops / activities, and we pretty much stayed with the same group and the same social worker / teacher. Every day we had new people arrive and people finish their 10 days and leaving.
The first session was always “process group,” where we talked about our previous evening and if we used any of the skills we were learning about. Right off the bat, while introducing myself, I let everyone know my name is Kameron and I’m transgender and use male pronouns. The social worker replied, saying “thank you for letting us know – sometimes we have people who don’t say anything about it. I really appreciate it.”
They had to use my legal name for paperwork and official stuff, but it seemed like they could use my chosen name for the daily roster, and I asked the social worker about that. She said, “yes let’s change it – I’ll make a note and you can mention it to the administrative assistant.” During break, I went up to talk to her, and surprisingly she said, “No, it has to be your legal name.” The next day, my legal name was on the roster, and next to it, “Kameron.” Like that, with quotation marks. It felt weird but I guess it was a compromise. Other than that though, everyone always called me Kameron.
During a break one day, someone shared their People magazine with me – a recent one with an article about Bruce Jenner. It felt good she wanted to point that out to me, like she was connecting with me. I read the article, which was actually well done. They referred to Bruce with male pronouns, but made it a point to explain that at this time, Bruce and his family are using male pronouns, so People magazine is too. Seemed logical.
When new people joined our group, I continued to say I’m trans and I use male pronouns. On one occasion, I got into it a lot more, saying that I feel somewhere in the middle and don’t plan to live my life as a man. That strangers almost always see me as female, and it’s difficult to navigate in the world. Later on, I got the best feedback ever. A new person came up to me and said that if I’m going for in between genders, I’ve got it down. They could not tell which gender I am, and when I spoke and gave my name, they still couldn’t tell. They had no idea, but if they absolutely had to guess, they would have said “male.” They gave me a thumbs up. That really brightened my day (for a short time because I’m depressed and am having a hard time absorbing the good things.)
One person told me that they worked with a lot of transgender people in the past. They asked me, “Have you had any surgeries.” I quickly and calmly steered them away from this, saying, “I’d rather not talk about that; that’s personal. What I am interested in talking about though is the social stigma and daily struggles.” That then turned into a discussion about stigmas surrounding mental illness, and everything was fine.
Other than that, everyone was respectful and consistent. This was the first time I was trying out the name “Kameron,” and it felt good. No one knew I’m not using that name in my life yet, and it didn’t matter. I’ve since been telling more friends about my name, and when my partner leaves notes for me, she writes, “Kameron.” This is really starting to have some forward momentum. It feels scary right now, but also it feels affirming, so I’m going to keep going.
Still struggling / We got cats
Posted: April 17, 2015 Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: anxiety, cats, depression, emotions, insomnia, mental health, pets, sleeping, therapy 35 CommentsIt’s been three months now since I was hospitalized. I was out of work initially for 2 weeks, then I went back for about a month before being out for another 2 weeks. I started to feel like things were improving – it was starting to be spring, time was on my side, and I would have moments where the crushing depression was lifting.
Then I had a really rough few days last week. I had 2 nights of disturbed sleeping in a row, and that really made the difference in whether I was OK enough or not OK. I called into work one of the days, but that started to not feel like enough. Things at work were starting to really trigger my anxiety, and this just got worse and worse over the weekend.
I had an idea about the trajectory of my recovery, but my brain is not following along. I thought, “OK, I just went through a manic episode with delusional thinking. This was followed by about 2 weeks of hypomania and then some mixed symptoms. I thought I could get away without sinking into depression, but it caught up to me. I should be in this depression for a few weeks and then things will start to lift and I’ll feel like myself again.”
Those few weeks have been stretching into 2 months so far. Like I said, a couple weeks ago, it started to feel like things were improving a little bit, but then I fell again, fast and hard. That wasn’t part of the plan. My therapist suggested going out of work for even longer, to give myself some time to heal. So, I am currently out of work for a month. It feels like defeat/relief. I started taking Celexa in the hopes that it will help.
Some of those nights when I haven’t been sleeping well have been agony. There were nights where I didn’t actually sleep at all – just kind of dozed only to be pulled out of it by some thought attached to an anxiety-reaction, over and over and over again. Does anyone else go through periods of insomnia? I kept trying to go to sleep in the guest bed, then switch to the couch, then back to our bed, then the guest bed, the couch, our bed, the guest bed… The night stretched out to infinity. I started getting agitated. Pacing. Swearing at myself. Punching a soft chair. I could have done worse, so I’m glad it was just that.
I’m at a new low. When I thought recovery was on the horizon, I sunk lower. In my past, I have been more depressed than I am right now, but who’s comparing? This feels pretty fucking bad.
When my feelings were so bad I didn’t think I could even be with myself, my partner helped me arrange to spend the day with her mom. We went to the bank, got coffee, ran an errand at the mall, she brought me to my therapy appointment, and then we had lunch at her house. That helped.
When it wasn’t any better 2 days later, I called a friend and she picked me up on her way to doing a bunch of deliveries for work. We ate lunch at an Indian buffet. That helped.
When I couldn’t imagine being home alone anymore, I went to yoga with my partner. That helped.
When I couldn’t fathom what I would do with these unstructured days, I looked into a place called the Creative Wellness Center. They have a bunch of art workshops and support groups, and it’s all free. I went to a jewelery making workshop just because that was what was being offered when I got there, and I went to a support group. That helped, momentarily, but I would have to say the social element was super taxing, and I’m not sure if I will go back.
When I expressed extreme despondency in therapy today, she suggested a partial hospitalization program. She looked into it and they do currently have openings. It runs weekdays from 9:30-3:15. I think this is what I need right now. She is going to fill out the paperwork and get back to me – I may be able to start next week.
In brighter news, my partner and I adopted 2 cats two weeks ago. Their names are Joan (after Joan Jett) and Jarboe (singer in a band called Swans). Normally, getting new pets would probably be exciting and fun. There are elements that are nice – it’s fun to watch them play together, and I like when they are cuddly. But to be honest, it has been stressful, just because of the state I am in. They are cats, doing their cat things. They get into stuff and knock things over. They eat things they shouldn’t. We’re containing them to the first floor right now, and Joan keeps getting through to go to the upstairs or basement. They are a whirlwind of motion; they are creatures being alive.
Joan
Jarboe
I keep hoping that they will save me from what I am feeling, but the best they can do is distract me momentarily. That’s a lot of pressure I’m putting on them!
Am I bipolar?
Posted: March 30, 2015 Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: bipolar, bipolar disorder, depression, emotions, hypomania, mania, medical treatment, medications, mental health, SSRIs, therapy 11 CommentsToday is the 2nd annual World Bipolar Day, an event that strives to educate the public about bipolar disorder and encourages an open discussion to end the stigma associated with brain illness. There’s a facebook page where people can share stories, and there’s lots of links to different organizations. It was chosen to fall on this day because it’s Vincent Van Gogh’s birthday. He is said to have suffered from bipolar disorder, and he committed suicide at age 37. Bipolar disorder is fairly rare – roughly 1% – 2% of the population are bipolar. Some estimates say up to 5%, but there is this sense that it’s over-diagnosed. When I have questioned in therapy whether I am bipolar, she has replied something to the effect of, “That was a very popular diagnosis then. A lot of teens were being diagnosed.” Sometimes people think they have it because their moods are extreme; really something else might be going on.
I thought I’d take a minute to reflect today about whether I am bipolar or not. I mean, I did just go through a delusional manic episode 2.5 months ago, no doubt about it. And I am currently sinking through a rebound depression – definitely a clinical level depression. But I strongly do not think I am bipolar. It’s been 15 years in between episodes, and I’ve only ever had 2 episodes. Much of that time I’ve been off all medications. I can accept that I have bipolar-like tendencies (and I’m hyper-sensitive to stress levels), but I don’t think I fit the criteria, nor do I think I need to be medicated long term. In fact, I plan to go off my medications in a couple of months once this passes and I feel like myself again.
My new psychiatrist told my partner, “Once a bipolar, always a bipolar.” Meaning, I’d been (mis?)diagnosed already (at age 17), and there’s no taking that back. ??? He thinks I need to be medicated forever. He doesn’t get that I’ve been stable and have managed issues in my life in other ways for a long time. I’m pretty sure someone who is really bipolar doesn’t get to do that.
I can’t imagine what it would be like to actually be bipolar. To have to balance a medication cocktail indefinitely or suffer the consequences. Because when you’re actually bipolar, you can have an upswing or downturn without much prompting, if you’re un-medicated or if the medications are not right for you. If I was pretty sure I would be going through more mania and more depression in the near future, I would be living in fear of that. I honestly do believe I am prone to going through mania and depression again, but to a much lesser extent than someone who actually has bipolar disorder. And that’s scary enough.
One other factor that makes me think I have bipolar-like tendencies has been my reaction to SSRIs. I took Paxil for a few weeks about 13 years ago, and it caused me to feel super agitated and become hypomanic. Apparently this will happen if people with bipolar disorder take SSRIs. I do take this seriously, but ultimately I’d have to say I do not have bipolar disorder. Today I’m thinking about everyone who actually does.
Feeling trapped in by medications
Posted: March 6, 2015 Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: antipsychotics, anxiety, depression, doctors, medical treatment, medications, mental health, side effects, sleeplessness, therapy 7 CommentsI’m on a 2 week leave from work again right now. I was basically planning to just push through depression and just go through with obligations and routines. That’s what I tend to do. But I was switching medications, and I really hit a wall. I had been on Geodon, and was switching to Latuda (both atypical antipsychotics). The Geodon was causing some strange hormonal side effects, so for 2 weeks, I was on a half dose of that and a half dose of this new one. That was working out OK. Switching to a full dose of the Latuda really set things off though. I couldn’t sleep and was starting to feel agitated. Depression plummeted and anxiety skyrocketed. Last night, I threw up an hour after taking the pills.
I had a therapy appointment yesterday, and going out of work again was her idea. As soon as she said it, it sounded like a good idea. Why didn’t I think of that? Haha. I have plenty of sick time; might as well use it when I actually need it.
I really do not know what I’ll do for two weeks. (OK, I do have some ideas – I can get my car recalls taken care of, I can start thank you cards from our party last summer, I can give my friend a hair cut, I can try doing some writing, I can just take it easy.) I feel relief.
I just feel trapped in by medications right now (side effects are weird! I’m a small person and I feel the dosing has just been way too high!), and by my psychiatrist because it’s all his call. I thought the Geodon could be OK if I were on less of it. He decided we’re not going to lower it, we’re going to switch drugs instead. Now I have to call him and tell him that’s not working out. I really just want to be on Geodon, just less of it. I really hope he listens.
Depression and taking testosterone pt. 2
Posted: March 2, 2015 Filed under: Testosterone | Tags: androgyny, depression, emotions, gender identity, genderqueer, hormone replacement therapy, lgbt, medication, mental health, non-binary, testosterone, trans, transgender 11 CommentsA couple of months ago, I wrote about my aversion to antidepressants and how I’ve felt like testosterone has been acting well, in that way for me. A reader had asked if I have experiences with being on antidepressants while starting T, and since I hadn’t, I asked for thoughts from others. That post is here:
Depression and taking testosterone
I’m going to elaborate on some of those thoughts now because I am currently depressed. I’ve been feeling this way for close to two weeks now, and I acknowledge that it might be a little while before I really pull out of it. It’s not all that surprising or hard to swallow. I suffered from a break from reality and a manic episode 6 weeks ago, and then I spent some time (weeks) in a hypomanic and slightly agitated state. Usually what follows naturally is a rebound depressive episode. My brain is still sorting itself out.
I’ve been spending a lot of my free time sitting and thinking. Or laying down and thinking. Or sleeping. The thinking isn’t doing me any good / getting me anywhere. It’s a lot of dead ends and connecting things to fear responses. But it feels like all I can do at times. Reading has been challenging. Socializing has been challenging. Feeling like doing anything extra has been challenging. Writing (surprisingly) is doable, and always has been when I’m depressed (as long as it’s personal writing as opposed to fiction or academic writing). I’ve been feeling forgetful, and like it’s tough to grasp the details of what is going on around me.
I’m trying to go easy on myself – not berate myself for sleeping 10-12 hours a night. Accepting help from my partner and telling her how much it’s appreciated. Letting myself off the hook for not conversing with others the way I’d like to be, or not doing the things I should really get around to doing…
Things that are sad are even sadder than they’d normally feel. I haven’t been crying; instead I feel a sinking numbness. Things that should be joyful and exciting are just things that happened. Hopefully I’ll feel the joy and excitement later on, like a delayed response once I’m past this? Like I’m storing up the joy for later? Because some good things have been happening; I’m just not feeling it.
There is a bright side though, and that’s what I wanna focus on. I still do think that testosterone is acting as an effective antidepressant. Not so much on my mind / thinking, but definitely on my body / energy. Although I’ve been oversleeping, when I’m awake, I feel good. I don’t feel drained of energy or crushing physical pain, which is so common with depression. It’s not hard to go through the motions of living, even though I really am just dragging my brain along for the ride right now. That feels like a win.
My psychiatrist keeps asking, “How is your depression,” and saying, “If you’re depressed, we’ll add an antidepressant.” And I keep saying (so far) that my depression is fine. I don’t want to add more pills.* I know this is stubborn thinking, and if it goes on too long, I hope I’ll have the wits to just gracefully change my tune. But I really feel like this is a blip, and within a month, I’ll be feeling more like my usual self.
And that’s another win – a lot of times, that depressed feeling is accompanied by a conviction that it will never lift. I don’t feel that. I feel like I’ll be out from under this in no time.
And my brain and I might be friends again before I know it.
*I had been on Geodon, an atypical antipsychotic that was causing some strange hormonal side effects for me. I’m currently switching to Latuda, another atypical antispychotic that has been approved in the US for about a year now. I’m hoping this will go better.
I landed back in the hospital
Posted: January 23, 2015 Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: antipsychotics, anxiety, depression, emotions, genderqueer, hospital, lgbtq, media, medical treatment, medication, mental health, queer 30 CommentsThis week has thrown me for a loop, big time. Between Saturday AM and Wednesday AM, I was in the hospital for mental health reasons, on a psychiatric unit. I don’t believe I ever thought I’d be back there; in fact, it was my biggest fear. Scarier than heights, the tallest roller-coasters, the dark, spiders, sharks, germs, etc. etc. (I’m actually not afraid of any of those things.)
Just to summarize my history briefly, when I was a senior in high school, I suffered a psychotic break and subsequent major depressive episode (lasting 4 months, and then on and off throughout college). I was on a mixture of different drugs for about 6 years, and I weened myself off all of them after a certain point. I’d been med-free for roughly 10 years, and pretty proud of that fact.
I’ve written about mental health before…
Here: Depression and taking testosterone
Here: That specific trauma is still there
And here: Continuing to work through a specific trauma
…and also scattered throughout many blog entries.
Although this blog is mainly about taking a low dose of T and working as a janitor, it is undeniably also about mental health and self-care. I slipped up pretty big in the self-care department, slowly and gradually at first, and then fast and unstoppably. I went through a full blown manic episode / psychotic break. A lot of it was so fun it’s kinda indescribable. In fact, I can definitely tell I still haven’t come down completely yet – I’m registering a heightened sensitivity to bodily sensations, both pleasant and annoying, I feel keyed up / antsy, I need to be in control of the stimulation levels or else I feel overwhelmed within seconds, smells and tastes are waaaaay off (not constantly, but sporadically), colors and patterns are popping out, my thinking is still relatively disorganized…
But I’m sleeping well and eating well and engaging in a lot of different things and spending 24/7 with my partner for a few days, and that’s what’s important right now. I was prescribed ziprasidone, which is an atypical antipsychotic approved by the FDA in 2001. Am I happy about it? No. Do I think I’ll be on it indefinitely? A strong NO! But I can accept it for right now.
I’m sure I’ll return to some of what I went through, in an attempt to process things and just share where I’m at (it does feel like it’ll be an arduous rehabilitation process, and I’ll be out of work for roughly 2 weeks). For now though, I want to just write about a strange parallel. It might not mean anything if you haven’t seen Breaking Bad, but I’ll give it a whirl anyway (and there are no real spoilers in what is to follow):
Leading up to what I went through, my partner and I were watching a lot of Breaking Bad. Not really binge watching it, but watching an episode almost every night. Now we are not. Haha. We only have 4 or 5 episodes left, but we’re putting the show on pause. I suggested we start watching Malcolm in the Middle instead, largely because Bryan Cranston plays the dad in both shows (and I used to watch it as a teenager and thought it would be fun. It is fun). But – we just watched the 5th episode, and the family is getting their house tented and fumigated. They are in a camper trailer on their front lawn in the meantime. And the parents, at the tail end of the episode, put on gas masks in order to enter the house and get some alone time. I was flipping out. (I mean, my partner was too, but I was shouting and swearing and pacing and called it a night, basically). Haha. I’ll probably be in bed by 9pm.
Depression and taking testosterone
Posted: December 8, 2014 Filed under: Testosterone | Tags: antidepressants, anxiety, depression, gender identity, genderqueer, hormone replacement therapy, lgbtqia, mental health, non-binary, queer, testosterone, therapy, trans, transgender 4 CommentsA reader asked me,
I have been researching going on T and got approved for top surgery this past summer. I too struggle with depression and am on medication for it. I have been trying to find information on it but, were you on antidepressants when you started T and if so, did it affect how the T was processed? I am curious if the T counteracts negatively in any way with depression meds. Thank you for your posts and i look forward to hearing from you!
And since I don’t have any direct experience with this, I thought I’d post here and see if others might have some helpful thoughts / advice.
I was on antidepressants for around 6 years, from 2000-2006. I didn’t start testosterone till 2013, so I’m very far from there having been any overlap. I haven’t heard of someone having an adverse reaction to being on both at the same time, or there being any issue with how the T is being processed by the body. Everything is an adjustment though, and T is a potent hormone to throw into the mix.
For me, T has acted as a pretty effective anti-anxiety substance and antidepressant. I would recommend it to anyone who is depressed or anxious (That’s a joke. Kinda, haha.)
I don’t know whether I would ever take a synthesized antidepressant medication again. I’ve been on quite a few, and they were all either not really doing much of anything, or they were flattening me out into a walking zombie. They definitely do work wonders for some people though. Testosterone has been much more effective, for me, and I don’t just mean in terms of addressing body dysphoria. I mean that it has lifted me into a new level of living, basically. I wanna say that it’s been taking testosterone + being in therapy simultaneously that’s gotten me here (a powerful combination.)
I definitely am prone to low moods still. Just this past week / weekend is a very clear, recent example. I wasn’t sleeping well, my appetite was poor, I was obsessing about things I can’t change, I had little motivation for anything beyond basic functioning level. But something is very different about these dips than where I used to be at: I know they are not going to last. I know I’ll be naturally coming out of it at any point, and once I do, I don’t need to live in constant fear of the next time I start to feel low. Because, that’s all it is – feeling low. It’s no longer body + soul crushing depression, which I’ve been all too familiar with for most of my teenaged years and young adulthood…
Has anyone been on antidepressants when they started testosterone? Did you notice anything about how the two substances might have possibly interacted with each other? What has been your experience with antidepressants?
That specific trauma is still there
Posted: November 13, 2014 Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: anxiety, bipolar disorder, depression, medical treatment, mental health, psychiatric hospital, psychiatry, stress, therapy, trauma 3 CommentsAround this time (middle of the night), fifteen years ago, I started a game changing series of events by getting my mom to bring me to the hospital, from which I was admitted (voluntarily) to an adolescent psychiatric unit. Once I was actually there, I didn’t want to be there anymore, but a lot of things were changing, and I ended up having to stay for 19 days. I left with a misdiagnosis of bipolar disorder and prescriptions for Depakote (mood stabilizer), Risperdol (antipsychotic), and Wellbutrin (antidepressant). The medications changed a lot over the years… I’m happy to report I’ve been med-free for about 9 years at this point.
Last year, I wrote about how I came to finally acquire my medical records from my hospital stay, and how I started to process things differently with the help of my therapist:
Continuing to work through a specific trauma
This year, I finally brought this massive document in to therapy with me, despite the fact that I was pretty unsure, er maybe more like totally ambivalent, about what I wanted to get out of talking about it (yet again) exactly.
My therapist started reading through the pages out loud, and simultaneously made comments and processed it in her own way. At first this felt tedious (the thing is 210 pages long!) But I also felt intrigued. It was much more helpful for her to tell me about the content than for me to try to go through it myself (which I hadn’t done since first receiving it, last year). I also started to feel yucky and shut-downy. I finally verbalized, “Let’s take a break.” I was worried this therapy session was really going to have a negative lasting impact on me, but, in fact, I felt fine afterward. Maybe I’m more resilient these days than I think.
I used to always think that if I do this one thing, or if I find out these missing pieces, or if I reflect back in a different way, the pain of that experience will be lifted. If I just keep grinding into it and picking away at it, I’ll one day be free. Now I know that this can’t really happen. And I can accept that it was a shitty thing that probably didn’t actually need to happen. It was traumatic. It was so long ago. I can look at it with a completely different perspective by now, but not because of anything I did – that perspective shift happened naturally, over time and with personal growth.
There is so much I could write about. But I actually really only want to write about one thing right now, as it relates to my hospital experience: while I was there, I wore this one particular hoodie constantly. And once I was released, I never wore it again. But there seems to be no way I can get rid of it. I brought the hoodie in to therapy, along with the document, and told her all about it. When the document felt too overwhelming to keep delving into, I told her she should just hold onto it and go through it on her own time. She asked if she could hold on to the hoodie too. I said, “yeah sure.”
My hoodie sported this sports logo.
The reason I loved the hoodie so much was because the LA Rams were not a team. (I just looked it up, and they were a team from 1946-1994). I worked at a thrift store and picked up this gem at some point. I liked the incongruousness of it. I do not like football.
Getting slammed by visions of violence
Posted: July 16, 2014 Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: anxiety, depression, emotions, obsession, pain, self-inflicted violence, self-injury, stress, stress-response, trigger warning, violence, visions, writing 5 CommentsTrigger warning: violent imagery (as the title suggests).
Last week, I was in high stress mode. It’s due to an annual drastic change in my work schedule (and really no other reasons, as far as I know about. I mean, I have other stressors going on, but nothing I can’t usually handle.) This happens every single year, and it really affects how I engage with summer. I can always predict it; simultaneously, I always conveniently forget how extreme it gets.
I wrote what follows last week, when I was in the thick of it. And then I just sat on it, because I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to post it. Partially because it’s a departure from what I usually write about. Now that I’m feeling better, I find that, yes, I’ll post it. So, here’s what I wrote, only slightly edited:
My mind’s reaction to long-term stress is terrifying to me. I continue to wonder if this is really just how it is. (Why can’t I just grow out of this???). Some people get stress-induced migraines or upset stomachs or struggle with insomnia. Anything like that is, without a doubt, difficult to deal with. In a big way, I am glad I am not afflicted with those stress-responses. In some way though, a part of me wishes for something like that instead, but only because it’s relate-able and I’d probably feel like I could talk about it with others. “My stomach is in knots thinking about what I have to do.” Or, “I’m losing sleep over this.” These phrases are super common.
When I get stressed out for long enough, it feels like my brain is rotting away. I lose brain functioning (not a figure of speech – my cognitive abilities actually suffer in some big ways.) But more than this: It feels as if my brain has turned against me; I am bombarded by visions – images of violence being inflicted upon me. I do not know what I can do. I can distract myself. I can try stress reduction techniques. I can (and do) follow through with inflicting pain on myself in an attempt to stop the visions. None of these things have ever worked too well when I’m actually in it. When I was younger, I was “in it” on-and-off for years and years and years. It would become intolerable. It’d be beyond intolerable, but, of course, I had to keep waking up and living it, over and over again because there’s no getting away from your own mind.
Often, my brain would feel so rotten that I couldn’t read, I couldn’t make sense of things on TV or in movies. I couldn’t talk to people or follow a conversation. Eventually I couldn’t do any schoolwork at all. (And it wasn’t about concentration, which is a common issue with people who are depressed. It was specifically that synapses seemingly disintegrated.) I made it through because luckily I had a therapist at home and a therapist at school, and they helped advocate for me to get accommodations I needed to not flunk or drop out of college. I felt like dropping out. I “got by” with very high grades, because I couldn’t have lived with myself with anything less. ??? Does this make any sense at all? I was barely functioning, yet I somehow ended up with very high marks. If my grades had ended up slipping, I would have been even more abusive to myself. Maybe the people around me could sense that.
Somehow, I could still write, surprisingly eloquently. Although, it was limited to journal-style writing, not academic-style writing. Like what I’m doing right now. When I can’t seem to do anything else.
I get barraged with images spanning from mild (such as my face being slapped or my skin being cut) to morbid (such as being hacked away at with an axe. Or my head being whacked repeatedly with a 2×4. Or falling and hitting my head so hard that I pass out. Or my neck being held down as I am whipped over and over and over again.) These images are never sexual. They are disturbing and unwanted. I seem to have no control over them.
I have heard of some people struggling with urges to actively do something they do not actually want to do. Like inflicting pain onto someone else. Or stepping off the subway platform in front of a subway. Or driving their car off the road and down a steep ravine. There is an excellent graphic novel I would highly recommend that is largely about this compulsion. It’s called The Nao of Brown. What I’m talking about is so similar, yet strikingly different. I am never the one in control. I’m not harming anyone else or actively harming myself. It is always an anonymous person outside the visual frame, inflicting violence on me. I’m the object; I’m looking at myself.
Last week I told my therapist, “whoever made brains needs to try again.”
janitorqueer 